Wednesday, February 17, 2010

I like a boy. His name is Jeremy. We’ve been dating for a little over a year. Though we both dislike long-distance, we’ve become pretty good at it.

I like that the long-distance thing has forced us to communicate. Though I loathe the circumstances, I know that we are probably closer and better communicators because of it. We’ve had to learn to talk because words are all we have most of the time. Where some couples might just make-out when they’re bored, we actually have to talk, and we do, about everything: my eating disorder and perfection, his struggles, God, sex, the future, politics, how to love each other better, what we want, and what we need.

I like that when he picks me up at the airport, he always brings flowers. Yup, we’re that lovey, slightly mushy couple in the airport.

I like that we have the 24 hour rule. I think many people, including myself, would assume that when couples haven’t seen each other for awhile they just kiss for the a solid 3 days once they are together. Not true, and I like saying that. We take 24 hours to get used to each other again. We want to be intentional.

I like when his finger traces, “I <3 U" on my arm or leg as we're sitting in the car or in a restaurant.

I like when I catch him smiling at me across the room.

I like it when he says, “I’m proud of you.”

I like when it’s my turn with the little black book that we pass back and forth. We take turns writing to each other and then hide it in the others luggage or a coat pocket on the return trip.

I like that we are getting good at reading each other and asking for what we need.

I like when he reminds me, “You are not a number.” He knows my struggles to be good enough, thin enough, pretty enough. We talk about it. He asks, “How can I help?” Usually just the fact that he asks is help enough.

I like that we can disagree and, we do. This tough, outdoorsy IRR major likes country music, NASCAR, and Taco Bell. He’s a strong, somewhat conservative, Christian. His hair is longer than mine. He’s often running late, prefers spontaneity, avoids plans, and stays up late. e’sHI’m an English major who favors acoustic folk music, yoga, bookstores, and tofu. I lean liberal and would call myself a spiritual seeker. I am consistently on time, breathe lists and plans, and prefer the early morning. We may be different, but we find common ground.

I like that we can admit when we’re wrong.

I like that I feel good enough for him. A year-ish ago, he came to visit me in Lincoln. Much has changed since then, and I’m somewhat ashamed to say this, but I had very different ideas about dating based on a previous relationship in which I felt that most of what I was good for was a kissing buddy (I’m so relieved to be done with high school). I felt pressured and heavy thinking of all the ways I was not enough for him. I wanted to be something I wasn’t. I didn’t realize I was carrying around this belief about men, until Jeremy said, “I’m not him.” That was the moment I knew I was in love with this guy. We talked through who he was versus who that guy was. I had to reframe what I believed about dating, about guys, and about myself. We didn’t kiss again for six months. Do you realize how important that was for him to say, “I’m not going anywhere. You’re more to me than that. Take your time”? Oy. Flutter, flutter.

I like that we don’t fight dirty. We talk carefully through tough conversations. We don’t yell. We don’t slam doors or phone receivers. We clarify. We don’t call them fights, we call them spats. We’ve had our share and frankly, our spats give me confidence in our ability to talk about hard things. He has hurt me. I have hurt him. We will do so again, hopefully not on purpose. We know so much about each other, we have an armory of weapons we could use against each other, but choose not to. Maybe that’s love.

I like that neither of us have life figured out, but I feel hope knowing we’ll get through it together.